Bedknobs and Boomsticks
by Danny Barefoot
Summary: A series of short, whimsical pieces focused on Izetta: the Last Witch. Magic will not be featured; I'm more interested in the people. I don't own Izetta (nor does Fine), the licensees do.


_A/N:_ In case anyone hasn't seen ep9, Witch Girl is an in-universe comic the Allies publish about Izetta's bold deeds. Of course, it probably isn't an exact account.

* * *

 _"Advancing Panzers belch smoke, across the plains of Cohnenburg. While a figure in white, poised and slim as a valiant gazelle, stares down from the cliffs above. The steely focus of Witch Girl's eyes and slim red lips belies the tempestuous valour within her shapely (but modestly-sized) breast..._

 _"'By Hectate's crown! Those brave boys down there won't last five minutes against those Germanian fiends! This fight needs my help_ _–and if there's one thing I love, it's a good fight!'_

 _"Mounted on her famous Lahti L-42 anti-tank rifle, the Maiden of Magic takes to the air. Lances of brilliant light turn the Germanian air cover into so many pretty orange fireballs._

 _"'Ha! Even your lightning warfare isn't fast enough to escape me!' Flitting, swallow-like, through a hail of tracers she bears on the enemy armour, "Shazam, frazam, Mazash! Hands of the titans, aid me!"_

 _"'Stand your ground! All who flee will be shot!" Bawls a Germanian tank commander (sporting a toothbrush moustache), "Never in a thousand years could a single madchen_ _–!'_

 _"His words are cut off, as a rather large tank crashes down on top of his own machine, squashing him, one presumes, to jelly. The Germanian infantry flee in abject terror. Allied soldier stand up from their trenches, to cheer the most magical heroine known to Europe's skies._

 _"'How do you like that, you vile Huns? You boast of your science, and machines, but know not the magic of the human heart! Friendship! Loyalty! Courage! We hold a power to blow your 'pansy' tanks into the scrap they are!'_

 _"Ever since her vision of the wizard Merlin, when mild-mannered factory worker Pricilla Price had learned she was heir of the White Witch, legendary protector of Europe…"_

-0-

-0-

"'Protector of _Europe_? Preposterous! Do those Yankees not know that Eylstatd exists?"

"General Schneider, some Atlantans probably don't know _Luxembourg_ exists. Incidentally, what's the state capital of Ohio?"

"Hmph! Is the struggle of the century taking place in Ohio? Has anything of significance ever been done in Ohio? 300 years ago, it didn't even exist!"

Elvera sent the fuming General a syrupy smile across the war room table. Several issues of the Witch Girl comic were strewn across the official papers. Archduchess Fine had been narrating, with her most oratorical manner, from the comic in her hand–much like a proud mother showing off her schoolgirl's essay. Beside her, Izetta was quietly imitating a teapot; the occasional whimper escaped her lips. Fine had few flaws, Elvera reflected, but she had blind spots.

"Lady Fine?" Seig Muller ventured, "We had assembled for our weekly strategic meeting, with regard to the ongoing war…?"

"That can wait for once, Seig," Fine gave him her firmest, sweetest, who's-still-the-Archduchess? smile, "If Germanians were charging across the Seylun corridor with a new wonderweapon, I'm sure you would already have mentioned something. And comics like these are _important_. The whole world, even the penniless and illiterate millions, will see Izetta's strength with their very eyes. Her 'Astounding Courage!'! Her 'Heart-stopping' power–!"

"Her dramatic poses! Her love of battle's thrill! Her distinctive cries of, 'Vile Hun!' and 'Great Hectate's crown!'…"

Elvera bend double with laughter, as Fine gave her a look more old-fashioned than the witch-goddess herself. Even Seig smiled.

"An inspiring word can do more than a bullet," The Archduchess retorted, "It is my only power, after all. If I could swoop about, destroying foes, as Izetta does so well…perhaps I would indulge in the occasional quip or catchphrase."

"Erm, Princess," All fell silent as Izetta raised her head, "I wouldn't _ever_ want you to fly without me, or fight in dangerous battles. It really isn't like these comic things…you do know that, don't you, Princess?" Everyone laughed again. Fine blushed very slightly.

"Of course we do, love," Elvera answered with a grin, "You're so very brave, even if you're so soft and adorable with us…even the rest of the world only knows your strength and courage. It's almost like there's two of you, see? Like Witch-Girl's secret identity?"

Izetta had never felt there were two of her. The same Izetta threw tanks across Cohnenburg plain and squirmed when her Archduchess praised it. If she had another, public identity–then she had yet another one on the table before her.

-0-

-0-

"Um, another thing," Izetta went on, "Shouldn't we write and tell the comic people, I never got any powers from that Merlin wizard-person?"

"Artistic licence, darling," Elvera chortled as she wiped her glasses, "Many folk outside of Eylstatd have never heard of the White Witch; everyone's heard of Merlin."

"Um…I hadn't."

"Don't worry about him, Izetta," Fine leaned towards her, smile dazzling, "The wizard Merlin never helped Arthur, King of the Britons, so much as you, my White Witch, have helped us all. We need no foolish comic to teach us that you're extraordinary."

"Oh, Princess…" Izetta murmured.

 _But Princess_ , Izetta though, _why_ _are we reading these silly comics then_?

"Enjoying Issue 3, General Schneider?"

"Not at all, your highness!" The old man hastily gave the comic he'd been peeking at a contemptuous flick, "This particular 'issue' features an elderly European general, burdened with the most absurd of moustaches. Even with Germania at his throat, this fellow insists, _ahem_ ; 'Magic is the capricious weapon of cowards. And no little girl has a soldier's strength, witch or no'!"

"Who exactly wrote this?" From a corner of the room, Captain Bianca's voice was frighteningly soft, "Haven't they heard of the Eylstatd Royal Guard?"

"Since you are a covert unit, perhaps not." Seig murmured. Bianca flushed in embarrassment.

"Joking aside," Schneider thundered on, shaking the offending comic, "If I had acted like this old bungler six months ago, we would be all 'Seig Reiching' and goosestepping about this very minute! Do these scribblers take the men who won the Great War for thick-headed fools?"

"General, sir, Miss Bianca–I'm really sorry!"

Izetta bowed her head. Schneider blustered that she was at no fault at all. He glanced back at the comic, where Witch Girl had split the elderly general's desk in two. And proceeded to inform the hapless old campaigner exactly what a particular little girl could do, on the battlefield or on the spot. He reflected mournfully that this _was_ the modern era of women's lib; at least _he_ would have passed before subjugation of men began in earnest.

"What I find somewhat amusing," Seig said, forbearing to respond to Schneider's comment about the Great War, "Is how handily Witch Girl's magic can free her from unexpected difficulties."

"Hmm," Elvera studied the issue Seig had been reading, "Captured by Lothar Von Belkman of the Germannian Special Service–ooo!–strung up in some rather risqué chains above an elaborate death trap…but fear not, good readers, Witch Girl escapes to fight again! By using her secret arts to snap steel, summon gremlins that wreck the buzzsaw device, and, ah, communicate with sharks…"

Izetta's face was red as her dress. She had looked ready to dive under the table, until Fine had patted her hand, but now she was shaking.

"I really don't have amazing powers like that," she muttered, "I only said that thing about gnomes and spirits at Veiler Pass because I had to. It was Miss Bianca and her friends that did the work. This comic thing says like I'm a real hero, but so many people have helped me, every time! I couldn't have done anything without Archduchess Fine, _and this comic doesn't have her in it at all!_ "

Silence followed Izetta's unusual outburst, broken only by her heavy breathing. She shot a glance at Fine, and found her lovely face almost touching her own, as delicate fingers slid between hers.

"Dear Izetta, you have risked your life alone, to save us all. Be proud of the things you do, for…every little thing you do is magic!"

 _Oh my Princess, I love you! Never leave me! So what if I can fly, even fly higher than an eagle? You are the wind beneath my wings…!_

…was how Izetta might have expressed her feelings if she'd had the nerve (or the song had been written yet).

As it was, the room only had to suffer her going redder than ever, and mumbling 'thank you, Princess'. Seig still sighed and pinched his nose, while Bianca glowed with a romantic maiden's joy.

"Perhaps we should leave you alone, Lady Fine…"

" _Actually_ ," Elvera murmured archly, "Witch Girl isn't quite the lone hero. She has a very special somebody. Who gives special aid on her missions, and takes a special place in her heart…"

Izetta and Fine looked round at the cover of issue 4. At the grinning, wedge-jawed face of pilot Jack Hark, Atlantan Eagle Squadron; Witch Girl's very special comrade and obvious love interest. Fine's expression was priceless, in a $10000-worth-of-bullets-in-10-seconds way. Izetta put her fingers in her ears and went 'lala', as Elvera gleefully narrated the comicbook version of the battle of Sognefjord.

Jack Hark's cutting-edge fighter, needless to say, saved Witch Girl at the final moment from Germania's most feared ace–the Black Baron. While Witch Girl shared a tender moment with Jack, resting on the wing of his plane, the scene finished with her swooping off into the sunset. Her life of magic and adventure, she had explained, forbade her to get too close to any man. Though if it could be anyone (a fluffy thought-bubble added) it would have been the dashing Atlantan airman etc etc.

"Rubbish. I know we need the Atlantans in the war, but…rubbish."

"Um, yes, Princesss. Not like, um, real life at all…" Izetta clenched her fists, and raised her head, "Anyway, why can't Witch Girl have somebody she loves? She does dangerous things, but so do all the soldiers with wives and families, and they fight for them! Isn't that why we fight, to protect the ones we love?"

Schneider, whose wife of 25 years had died some time ago from pneumonia, nodded vigorously. Seig, who had never committed himself to marriage, also nodded.

Fine had never regarded with any joy the prospect of perpetuating the archducal succession. But the passion in Izetta's eyes stirred her. Was she fighting only to protect the Eylstatd people, as a whole? Or for the sake of the pure, devoted girl she sent out to kill or die?

"You don't have any beau tucked away, do you, Izetta?" Elvera smirked, "From his photo, that Commander Groman seemed a nice young man."

"Um, my Grandmother always told me that men were, um…cruel, faithless brutes, at least in the woman way. I didn't see much in the towns we went through to change that. I think Grandmother wanted to make sure I would really be the last witch."

Another very sombre silence fell on the table. Fine threw her arms around Izetta, and rocked her against her breast.

"Izetta…that was terrible. But fear not. If…when this war is over, it is truly your will to find a wonderful man and marry him, I will…I will do all within in my power to assist…"

" _No_ , Archduchess! The only one I want to be with right now is you!"

"Izetta..."

At that point, Seig Muller finally stood and left without a word. Schneider bristled, but didn't detain him. He and Elvera soon left the witch and archduchess to their own devices, which didn't involve the comics still strewn over the table.

Lady Bianca also retired to her office. For some time she attempted to read reports, while absently fanning her face. Finally, with no distracting work for the forthcoming afternoon, she checked the corridor outside. Removed an innocent looking foolscap notebook from her bottom desk drawer.

-0-

-0-

 _…The White Witch stared deep into the violet eyes of her beloved prince. Her sigh issued from the most stygian depths of a soul weighted with destiny. Under the weight of desperate emotion, her bosom quivered._

 _"Can you truly love me, my Prince? I had hoped to use my magic for the good of all…but these hands bear the blood of earnest soldiers, who died for naught but to serve their country. In truth, I am merely your weapon…your weapon, to use as you please, my prince…"_

 _Prince Frederick Von Elystatd's hand stayed on her wrist; a bond of fate past breaking. His golden hair shone like fire; his elegant fingers drifted over his love's shapely chin._

 _"Could there be a mere weapon so beautiful as you, Izetta? Could there ever be a weapon that feels? I treasure you in every perfect part…"_

 _"Oh, my Prince…but I am a witch! We cannot be together, however much I might wish…"_

 _The kiss was a supernova of joy. All fear, all war, all pain fled away, from the heaven within their arms, as Prince Frederick swore with his lips, his love would never be left by him, whatever came…_

It wasn't the best way to deal with killing a man who had loved her. But perhaps the easiest.


End file.
